He Is Number Nine
by loricwolf
Summary: Number One is dead. Number Two was just killed. Number Three's location is unknown. Number Four is on the move. Number Five is captured. Number Six is all alone. Number Seven is hiding. Number Eight is famous. And Number Nine is in trouble. The Garde know that the time is coming. They must come together, but when they do, they develop things together against all odds.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This Lorien Legacies story is all my imagination, just sayin'. Lol. I've pre-written little bits of the story on my Word Document, but I still need to write it plus school so updates could be slow. On the website WATTPAD my username is "Justinnbartha". Anyway. I might take long breaks while updating. Please leave reviews so I know whether or not you like it :)**

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**Chapter One: NINE**

I loved cooking mushrooms. If you'd met me, I doubt I'd come across as the cooking-baking type, but I was. I found it amazing myself. My Cêpan, who had always kept the name Codie, let me cook most of the time. Because we lived in a humid, clammy village in Myanmar, a small place in South East Asia, the kitchen, like the rest of the hut, was a small space that overheated quite a bit. We usually had to go for a swim in the bog nearby after cooking. Luckily, though, the kitchen was big and the closest to the ground, as everything was on high elevation, so it was just a little cooler than the other rooms. Anyway, I did most of the cooking. Another thing you wouldn't believe about me is that I suggested we move here. Why? Hiding in plain sight. When my Cêpan heard that idea, he found it brilliant.

The Mogadorians wouldn't expect another Garde to move closer to where the last one was killed.

I stood in the kitchen, using the only clean wooden spoon I have left. On the pan in front of me, I had a whole package of mushrooms sprawled out on it. The creaky, dusty stove was on medium, so I had time to chop up whatever else I could mix with the mushrooms to make dinner, considering we had zero food left. I held my cutting board over my pan and dumped the chopped up celery into the pan. Beside me, I had a bottle of pre-prepared parsley, and so I grabbed it and shook little bits into the mix. I dropped my wood spoon after wiping sweat off my forehead and turned the stove to low. I made for the steps leading outside that were near the back of the kitchen, hoping for a blast of cool air.

I stepped outside, but the only cool air I got was when I opened the door. It was cooler outside, but not by much. I knew I was going to go insane. It was late August, and Codie and I had been here for a month. I didn't have many friends, but that was mainly cause to living in a little piece of land we shared with two other huts and a large kitchen/education center. Our hut was the closest to the bog, which I slid down to and dipped my feet in. The center was behind our hut and in the middle of the three huts – one hut was out of our sight from ours, and the other one was by the other corner of the center.

I liked it here, when you were talking safety. I didn't like the climate, and I didn't like the people very much because they were all used to being cooped up, and nobody was rich enough to afford air conditioning, including us.

"Amu!"

I turned. From behind me, Codie was approaching, holding my cell phone in one hand and a couple grocery bags in the other. "Hey, I got this renewed today." He wagged my phone in the thick air.

I took it as Codie sat down beside me. "Thanks, um, but what for?" Yesterday, Codie had told me he would take my phone to get it 'rigged up'. Looking at it now, it looked all new and spiffy, painted blue, but I didn't see what the point was.

"Open it."

I flipped the screen open and suddenly, travelling up my arms and all around me, I got a cool shiver. Gaping, I looked at the phone as it froze up in my hands. Or, at least it felt like it.

"My phone is freezing cold!" I looked up at Codie. He just smiled. I laughed, shutting my phone and feeling the cold chill disappear.

"Yeah, there ya go, Amu. I saw how hot you've been, so I went to the nearest phone center and told them to do anything they needed with it to make it cooler. Literally."

I looked up at Codie. I dropped the phone in shock and shoved him, but he was barely affected by my attempt. "What's gotten into you?" He asked.

"What if those workers you just _handed _my phone to were _them_!"

Codie rolled his eyes. "Come on, Nine. I'm not that clumsy, I'd know them better than you would. You must not remember; after our first three months living here, the Mogs almost captured you. They were 'working' at your school, and I killed them and took you away when I knew something was wrong."

"Aha, no, Codes. You just killed my teachers."

Codie picked up my phone, extending it to me. "It's all right, I've got It under control, Nine – I mean – Amujary. Just take your phone, and enjoy it. No other kids here will have one."

"That name you gave me is the stupidest thing ever," I spluttered, feeling the need to say something back. "Okay. Fine. I like the phone, okay?"

I snatched the phone away from Codie and shoved it in my pocket. As he made his way towards our hut I started over to the education center, which was an open program for kids in the area to go to to hang out and get daily lessons every two hours over the summer vacation. It wasn't summer school, just a program for fun. You didn't even have to go, it was like a choice. Codie just suggested that I do it, considering I haven't really spent time at local Earth school.

As soon as I walked in the center, I saw the one guy I actually hung out with. He's the only guy who wasn't stubby, greasy, or a jerk here. Myanmar was a pretty lame place, concerning the kids here.

"Hey," I said as I approached Mike. Mike had short blond hair, which is reason one why he wasn't greasy and gross; he kept it short, so it didn't automatically go that way, and blond, which is thinner than having it dark. Even my hair was black, and I still managed to keep it clean enough. Plus, I felt like Mike and I were the only people here who showered.

"Hey, Amu!" Mike smiled at me as I sat down at his table. We'd only been hanging out for about a week, but he'd still memorized my impossibly difficult name. "Decided to drop in today, I see."

"Uh, yeah," I smiled. "I took my time this morning though. It's uh, hot. And so are the showers, which I find odd."

"Yeah. You'd think the water would be cold, because we couldn't afford heat, but I guess the water goes hot because of how frigging hot it is already." Mike laughed. "So, I kinda forget, but where are you from again?"

"New Mexico," I lied. That was my backstory; Codie couldn't afford the mortgage, so we moved to a less expensive place. I told Mike the story and he nodded in agreement.

"Oh, yeah, I remember again. Right. How's Codie, Amu?"

I must've been going mad. For a second, I thought I heard him call me Nine. "Oh, um, he's good. We aren't quite used to the hot climate, yet. New Mexico isn't as hot as this place."

"I know. I've been here since I was six. I'm used to it but I feel like my dad could do loads better and go somewhere else." Mike looked around, distracted, like he usually did when talking about his father. "My dad just… he found a girl, and she betrayed him like a month later. Goes to show, for women, eh?"

I looked down at my shoes, which were nice ones. At least when I looked down in sadness I could look at something pretty. "Oh, yeah. Steer clear of girls, man, you just get bitten in the back."

"You think?" Mike looked up at me, as I was standing. "Not all girls are bad."

"Don't tell me you have a crush, Michael!"

Mike laughed, looking away. "Nah, I just wish I had a mother or sister figure who would actually love me. But all the good ones are given to the people who take them for granted."

I looked away, over to the food counter wall. Two lunch ladies were hustling around on their side of the glass, even though nobody was ordering. Only two tables were taken, and only three people at the tables. Me being only eleven, I was lucky to have Mike; he was fourteen and he'd be forced to go to high school as soon as school starts. I'd have to make some new crappy temporary friends until Codie moved us again.

I could connect with Mike, which is why we were friends; I'd never had a girl in my life either. I only had Codie. I'd never even had a girlfriend. But it was okay, I wasn't as worried about it as Mike. I guess when you're a real human kid you ponder about it a lot more.

I felt it before I heard it.

I felt a cool sting of air hit the back of my neck, and for a minute it felt good. I turned and my heart skipped a beat; a man stood behind me, holding my phone up and open, projecting the cool air out. The man wore a black hoodie and had the hood up, and I couldn't really see his face. He stood close enough to me so that I could smell his breath before he'd even spoke.

"That's all I need," he hissed.

I knew it.

I ran. Booking it out the door, I heard the air whipping from behind me and I knew something was off. I didn't bear looking. I kept my footing until I reached my hut's door, where I tripped and fell on top of the little creaky front deck. I screamed out, "CODIE!" before I felt something latch on to my foot.

I flipped myself over. Codie dropped my foot when he saw my expression. Relieved, I jumped up from the ground and grasped on to his shoulders. "Codie! They're here! We need to go! They have my phone!"

Codie's face dropped. I noticed his skin went pale and his eyes rolled over. Confused, I jumped off him and stood back. Codie dropped to his knees and that was when I saw the Mogadorian behind him, pulling his bloody sword from Codie's shoulder.

"NO!"

I tried to move to Codie but something had me from behind. I turned to look, and the Mog in the hoodie smiled at me, his pale hands digging in to my shoulders. "What is your Number?" He purred, showing off his little spiky teeth.

I turned away from him. Codie was on the ground, his face turned away. I looked up at the Mog who had hurt him.

"You filthy animals," I grunted as the Mog behind me dug his nails into me harder. "You won't kill me,"

I was flung onto the deck. Flipping over, I had a split second to run before the Mog's sword came down. I rolled to the side and the Mog screeched as he missed me. I fell on to the ground by Codie and closed my eyes, sitting up.

Concentrating, I lifted both of my hands as the two Mogs rushed at me. I yelled, and pushed my hands back at them. As I watched, the Mog with the sword was thrown to the ground backwards, dropping the weapon, but the second Mog was bigger and stronger. He jumped at me, and I was unable to use my telekinesis, currently my only Legacy, to stop him.

I tried to move from underneath him, but he had me pinned. I heard the other Mog barreling over to us, and, closing my eyes, I prepared for the worst.

I felt the pain.

I screamed as the second Mog's sword pierced me, as it seemed, right through the heart. The pain was unbearable. I hoped I'd just die quickly. But it wasn't that easy. The Mog's sword bounced out of my chest, falling to the ground beside me. The pain subsided, but I still bled. I held the spot where it had pierced me and opened my eyes.

The last thing I saw before it went black was the ugly, smiling face of the Mog as he brought the blindfold over my eyes.

And then I felt a new scar burning on my leg.


	2. Chapter 2

The feeling was horrible.

It was by far the most pain I'd ever felt, even worse than the first time I felt it. I clutched my leg, watching as the second scar burnt itself into my leg. The scar faintly glowed in the night, lighting up my cold bed sheets as I rocked back and forth, waiting and waiting for the pain to stop. I watched the scar form, growing deeper and deeper in my leg and I noticed faintly a trickle of blood, falling on to my bed and leaving a stain. I wasn't crying, Niomi had encouraged me not to last time. I watched my door, waiting for her to hear my cries of pain.

Right on cue, Niomi burst in through the door. She ran over to me holding a paper towel, and I snatched it up and pressed it up to my calf. She was speaking to me, but I didn't hear. I could only hear the high pitched sting of the scar, and I could only imagine Number Two's last few minutes of life, maybe running from Mogs in his/her last breath. I couldn't stand it. I wasn't next, but I felt scared to death that I soon would be.

I am Number Four.

v

I woke up to food.

It wasn't breakfast food, which was good, because it was 1:25 in the afternoon, according to my analog clock. There was a tray at the bottom of my bed, which held a large chocolate bar and a glass of water. Very appealing. But that was what Niomi had given me the last time I got a new scar, so apparently, chocolate and water helped. Whatever.

"Eat up,"

I turned to look at my door. Niomi leant against the frame, pointing to the chocolate. "We're leaving. At two. I've packed up your suitable clothes with mine, so just pack a bag of whatever stuff you're bringing. Leave the phone and the iPod. Leave the laptop. We're gonna soak those and then burn them, and same with the license plate on the truck. You should get out and say goodbye to your friends."

"What friends," I croaked. Niomi smiled. "But really, Niomi, my iPod? All I'll keep on there is my music." I promised, holding up my pinky.

"Whatever," Niomi motioned to the chocolate. "Eat, drink, and pack. Come on, Four, wake up. Forget about Number Two."

Niomi left and I stood up. I ate two squares of chocolate and sat the rest on my dresser. I grabbed my school bag and shoved in it my small little analog clock and my iPod, followed by the charger and earphones and whatnot. I also took my pendant from my dresser and put it on around my neck.

The pendant is a weird blue, which shines like beach glass. The shape of the pendant was like a half moon, with a small black circular symbol on it signifying my number, Four. The pendant is a little scratched up, but the thing hadn't broke yet. The sides of it were black, from me dropping it so many times, but everything else was still in shape and held together. I tucked it underneath my shirt.

The last thing I grabbed was a birthday card I'd kept on my dresser. It was a special one. It was from one of my only friends ever, Tray. Tray was the nicest guy to me and I wished I didn't have to leave him. He'd even written his own personalized message at the bottom, saying how much he was thankful I was there, because I'd saved his high school freshman year. I smiled just thinking about it.

I stepped outside into the piercing sunlight. With my screaming and pain last night, I hadn't slept for a while, so I was glad I had a chance to, with a most likely long car ride. I threw my backpack in the trunk of the car, which was a topless Jeep Wrangler that we'd bought here in Australia. It was old and the green paint was peeling, but I liked it. It was a fun ride to wherever.

"Hey, Nio!" I waved to Niomi who was across the street, chatting with our across-the-street-neighbors. She gave me a look like _go-away, I'm-talking! _I jumped up and sat in the trunk, watching her talk. She'd never really liked our neighbors ever before, but this time was different. They were a couple, who had a son my age. His name was Alexander, but I called him Lex. I hung out with him sometimes. Usually at his house, we'd relax and play video games whereas, at my place, we'd camp outside at night. It was fun to have a friend there, like a brother, who I could be totally honest with. Unlike Tray. He was more of a crush, to be totally and un-human-ly honest.

I smiled when I noticed Lex was outside there, too. He waved to me and I gave him a violent gesture with one of my fingers back. He smiled, but then it faded. Looking at him then, I knew something;

_I'm going to miss her so much. I guess I'll have to find another girl as chill as her._

I smiled. Lex's mind was always the same.

v

"So, where are we headed, Niomi?" I asked, sitting in the car.

Niomi didn't answer right away. She was eagerly watching the road, checking her mirrors, and thinking.

"New Mexico?" I said before she had answered.

"Stop doing that!" She looked at me, smiling. "It's creepy. I have no privacy."

"Well, it's not like I can read your mind through walls. I'm not that strong with it yet. It's mostly all jumbled, like you're thinking a lot at once. Only a few things are clear, like it's a word-search. It takes patience." I said. "And, by the way, didn't you say the Mogadorian b–?"

"Shh," She looked at me again for a second, and then back at the road. "Quieter, Four. Hey, it's new name time. What do you think?"

I looked out the window. "Maya."

"Okay," Niomi drew out the word, clearly unsure of what to say. I gazed out the window. Life was unusual. I didn't want to say boring, because running from an evil alien race on Earth while developing my own alien powers _sounds _pretty exciting. Truthfully, it wasn't. It was simply nerve- and mind-racking. I really wanted more Legacies to develop – all I had was weak mind reading and telekinesis, which Niomi hadn't really helped me with yet; we needed some place to practice. All I could pick up were little things, like my iPod or unlocking a door. Those were easier to do, and the smaller the item, I didn't even have to raise my hands to move them. Hopefully, I'd soon be able to even lift up Niomi. I hoped she'd make time to train me, because her time was usually occupied by making our IDs, looking at cell phones, and making sure my pictures weren't on the Internet. We'd never had a problem with a Mogadorian before, luckily, because of how careful Niomi was. I was too – I'd never taken photography classes, told schools to not take my photo, and made sure to not be to vocal or popular, trying to be invisible. To blend in.

The warm wind flowing through the car threw my hair around, and I held it back with my fingers. I watched as we zipped past the sandy surface on either side of us, the sand whipping around behind us. Houses were lined up in the distance as we passed an intersecting road, where two or three cars were parked on the street that I could see. The houses looked dusty, but I knew people lived there. It was Saturday, and in our Australia town, teens were out and running in the sunny woods together, something that we all did for fun. I only ever went with Tray, Lex and some of my other friends. I always wore skinny jeans, because I didn't want people spying my leg (which, at the time, only had one scar on it). One time, when I was relaxing with Lex at home, he saw it. It was ridiculously hot inside, and I couldn't stand it. He saw it right away and asked me what the heck it was. I said a tattoo. He bought it. Right after that, Niomi begged me to leave. I told her no, that Lex was gullible, he wouldn't tell people and I liked it here. Now, getting a second scar was a reason to leave. It meant the Mogs would very soon be looking for me. I hoped Number Three was good at hiding, and was constantly moving, and had their Cêpan. I assumed that some of the Garde had lost their Cêpans, seeing as Niomi told me some Garde could be kidnapped apparently and so could their Cêpans. I hoped that if Mogs took us, I could kill them. Niomi was as killable as humans, so as much as it was her job to protect me, I'd protect her.

I bent down and lifted my pant leg. I traced the blood red outline of my new scar, the circular pattern signifying Number Two. It was unbelievable. I'd thought Number One must've just been a fluke, and the rest of us would be safe and smart. I didn't know that the Mogs had officially started hunting us. I guess, if the pressure was on you for long enough, the Mogs would eventually have to kill you. And that was why I assumed Number One would go quickly, and I was right. I got my first scar when I was only seven years old, and I assumed most of the Garde was that age, too.

Suddenly, I felt a nudge on my shoulder. Whipping around, I saw the backseat was empty except for the sand flinging itself into it. Scared, I turned my whole body around and sat back.

"What?" I heard Niomi, but didn't look away from the backseats. "Someone there?"

"Something touched me."

I heard the car stop. We pulled on to the side of the road and I jumped out. I walked around to the backseat fearlessly and looked around.

I heard Niomi laugh from the front seat. "What?" I shouted. "What happened?"

"It's just a little lizard!"

I ran over to her side of the car. On her hand sat a big red and yellow lizard, its head framed by a lion-like spiky shield of scales. It looked like one of those friendly lizards from a pet store. "He must've hopped in our truck while you were talking," I said, running my finger along its back. It turned to look at me and made a purring noise.

"He likes you," Niomi smiled. "Wanna keep him?"

"Well, whatever. I don't want to get a cage and food. We'll let him out and if he stays, he stays." I mumbled, picking up the little guy and dropping him on my hand. "I'm gonna get in the back and sleep," I said, pointing to the backseat.

I hopped in the Jeep and slammed the door. Luckily, it was a convertible, so Niomi wheeled up the top as we started off again. The car was darker now with its black roof overtop, and I laid on my back with the lizard sitting on my stomach. I could feel it just laying, staying in its position. I soon fell asleep and all my worries were scrambled in my nightmare.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three: Five**

"Tell me your information."

"I'll never, you –"

"Please don't swear. We don't support it, and I doubt you just want us angrier at you, you Loric filth." The Mogadorian I was unfamiliar with circled around me, his little fanged teeth smirking at me. I wanted to spit at him, like I had to the last one. But I'd just been beat up.

Being beat up was better than being killed, though. I was glad I wasn't Number Three, and that Three and Four, wherever they were, were keeping me safe. For now.

The Mog slapped me. Frustrated and with my dark hair stuck to my sweaty face, I struggled against the chains that bound my hands in front of me and my legs to the wall. I figured they were going to force me to open my Chest, because it sounded like they had no clue that they couldn't do it without my Cêpan. She was still alive, out there somewhere, and I knew because I wasn't able to open my Chest; when a Cêpan dies, the Chest will automatically open to the Garde who owns it. However, while the Cêpan is alive, the Chest will only open to the Cêpan _and _the Garde.

"What's going through your mind, filth?" asked the stupid Mog. He now held a whip, and caressed it. "Your Cêpan?"

I looked at it. "She's alive, you dumb-a**." I thought about telling it about how only my Cêpan can open the Chest with me, but that would put a target on her back. I didn't want them to go and look for her. "Hopefully. I just know she's smarter than you lot, who busy themselves with me before they've got the Garde they _can _kill."

"What are you?" shouted the furious Mog. He slapped my legs with the whip and my knees would've buckled, but I was all tied up. My chest was held back by chain, too. "Number Nine? Eight? You sound cocky, like we'll never get to you. Well, look, little _princess. _We have you kidnapped. Your dirty little Cêpan won't be able to get you back. We're strong. We'll get to your Number soon enough."

"I'm not cocky, I'm just smart, and I assume the other Garde are, too." I smiled. "You may have got my powers disabled, or whatever, but not the others'."

The Mog hit me again. "Tell me what Number you are, filth!"

"She's Five."

I gawked at the frame in the doorway. His voice was scratchy and low, and sent shivers up my spine. I knew him right away. He'd beaten me last time, and he was the one who had taken my Legacies away, sort of disabled them.

Setrakus Ra.

I tried not to shiver, as the hot room became very cold. Setrakus approached me, taking the whip from the stupid other Mog. I decided I'd mock them.

"You really need a whip to attempt to attack a sixteen year old girl? You're more of a wimp than Three probably is right now. But it doesn't matter, you can't kill me anyways." I smiled sweetly.

Setrakus Ra smirked, showing off his ugly, yellow spiked teeth. He threw the whip over his shoulder. He approached me and curled his hand around my neck. "Little, arrogant, stupid girl. It's a shame."

"What is." I grumbled, uninterested. He wasn't choking me, but I could feel his hand around my neck, trying, and I was disgusted at his touch.

"It's nothing," Setrakus let go, stepping back. He turned his back to me, pacing. He turned back around to me and pulled out one medallion that he'd had under his cloak, running his fingers through it. "It's a shame that I can't hurt you as much as I want to. You're a pretty Loric girl," He came up to me and pushed my sweaty hair from my face. I wanted to barf. Instead, I worked up spittle in my mouth and spat in his face.

His face bubbled in anger, and he was struggling not to smack the daylights out of me. He slowly wiped the spit off his face and came up close to me, and he banged my head off the wall behind me. I cried out in pain, but stopped myself. I felt the blood, but there was no way he could kill me. He did it again and again until I could feel my head beat. Any normal person would be dead and overly bloody. When he stopped, I hung my head and looked at my feet. Blood pooled on the floor. I sniffed, and looked up again. Setrakus held the whip.

"You'll tell us why you can't open your Chest. Or we'll beat you until you're just a dirty beating Loric heart." Setrakus Ra threatened, looking at his whip as he ran it through his hand.

I looked down. "You need Jerri."

I heard heavy feet make their way towards me and I lifted my head up. Setrakus had the whip tucked in his cloak, his eyes wide. He lifted my chin up as he gagged my throat unsuccessfully again. "Cêpan." He said urgently.

He turned to the Mog still watching from the door. "Find the Cêpan! Search around the area called Colin's Bay in Florida. Then, all of Florida. This is probably a female going by Jerri or Streams, the last name."

"Aye! aye!" shouted the happy, stupid Mog.

Setrakus turned to me before leaving. "We'll let you say goodbye before you open the Chest later."

Then he left, the room again becoming hot and dark. I felt the still darkness I'd felt ever since being locked up here, knowing it was Setrakus Ra's charm that somehow locked my powers up inside me. I didn't know what it was. Mogadorians didn't have powers! Was it a Legacy? I didn't know what to make of it, but the whole place seemed anti-Legacy. I could possibly develop all my Legacies in here, without knowing.

Through the door, two Mogs with gray uniformed cloaks on came over to me and, surprisingly, _gently_ undid the chains. "Don't bother," one said, right before I was about to try to run on my bare feet. "It'll just be painful."

I watched as the second Mog gave him a look, like _have-you-gone-mad? _I rolled my eyes to myself. The Mog who'd spoke to me always was gentle, even though he didn't seem bothered by what he was doing. He was a little different; he had longer hair, which evolved into bangs that fell into his dark eyes and covered some of his pale face. He wasn't as ugly as the other Mogs, and he wasn't as stupid. He was stupid and ugly for being one all the same, however.

They dragged me down the hall simply because I refused to walk. My legs bruised from the whip, and my head hurt. I felt like dying. The two gray Mogs stopped in the hall when I noticed a man running towards us at the other end of the hall.

The Mog in black ran up to us, out of breath. He spoke so rapidly and raspy I couldn't understand. I figured it was in Mogadorian speech. The two Mogs holding me acted like it was a big deal and opened the jail cell to my right. They shoved me in and quickly shut it again, applying a big black lock on the handle. I figured that was stupid and it would be easy to break out, but the bars were close and thick and I really couldn't think of a way to escape.

And that was when I noticed him.

The boy straight across the hall from me. He sat in the shadows of the cell but I could tell he was there and small and a boy. We didn't say anything. After a while he looked at me, and shook his head. I figured it wasn't a time for talking.

I looked around the cell. I had a small, blocky bed with one rusty, thin sheet. My feet would stick off the end. By the end of the bed was the toilet, which was small and wooden. Sitting on the seat was a single, thin roll of toilet paper. Very generous.

"Gee, thanks for the supplies, eh?" I called out.

The boy looked at me. He was sitting on the floor now, and in full view. He had very short black hair, which in the front stood up. He had a torn, bloody black shirt on with white writing on the front I couldn't read. He wore beige jeans, which didn't look skinny on him although I figured they were skinny jeans. The boy looked starved and beaten, like me. I'd been locked up for a month, as the "nicer" Mogadorian I'd met mumbled to me once. I didn't know how long the boy had been here, but it didn't look as bad. Just as if he'd put up a fight before going there.

He wasn't Number Three, I could assume. He was probably a higher Number, and my guess was Six or Seven. Or maybe he was human. The Mogs would take literally anything to get info.

"I'm sorry," I said aloud, feeling like I was shouting. I moved closer to my door, wanting to be able to talk quieter. "Anyway. How long have you been here?"

The boy shook his head and got up, collapsing on his bed with his back turned. _Somebody_ woke up on the wrong side of the Mogadorian jail cell. I decided sleeping was a good idea. After all, it was pretty dark and I was beat. Literally. I crawled up into my little box called a bed and curled up, ready to cry. I was starving, ready to die, and dirty. I wanted this boy to talk to me so we could get out. Come up with a plan. If only we still had our Legacies, I could use them.

I'd be able to walk right through the walls.

v

I woke up like usual. Numb in my limbs and my nose. My whole body was aching, my head still pounding from yesterday. I felt my head, and even that gave me migraine pains. I sat up slowly, my head spinning and my eyes darkening for a moment. I stood up and stretched, sunlight pouring in to the front half of my cell. Looking across the lightened hall, the boy's cell was hard to see in. I saw his outline outstretched on his bed, but he wasn't moving at all. The cool nights, plus the fact we both only have one blanket, probably left him so numb he's frozen up.

I sat against one of the sunlit walls, looking at my hands. They both had red scars on the wrists due to the chains usually binding them together. I rubbed them together, and the added sunlight warmed my hands up a bit. I looked over at the kid's cell again, and he was also sitting in the light.

He looked more tired than he was yesterday. His legs outstretched, I could see his two scars on his right leg, both of them identical to mine. I looked at his face, and saw him looking at me. His eyes were dark, but I couldn't quite see across the hall. His dark hair was matted, but the front still stuck up a bit. He looked small. Like, maybe nine years old. A Garde being nine seemed strange to me, but I guess we were all different ages. Jerri, my Cêpan, had told me that we wouldn't all be the exact same age. I didn't figure that meant one could be _nine _years old.

"I'm sorry,"

I looked at the boy again. Surprised at his voice, I let out a small huff of air that could pass as a chuckle. "Yeah, for what? Not talking? I don't blame you."

"I hate it here."

His voice wasn't high, but not deep either. It was a little too deep for his appearing age, but whatever. We're aliens. "Yeah, well, I've been here a supposed month."

"It's March 30th, 10:50 a.m. I've been here for five days."

"How do you know that?"

The boy pointed to his wrist, where there was a slight bulge under his wrist. "Watch; when they checked me, they didn't care."

"Why should they?" I noted. "It's just a watch." I saw the boy shake. I realized I had to be careful and quiet with him, because he seemed on edge. He hadn't even told me his Number, and I wasn't about to ask him.

"No." The boy looked annoyed. He must've heard something, because he leant forwards and gazed down the hallway. In the brighter light, I could see he was in bad shape. Physically, and mentally. He looked back at me urgently. I got the hint.

I stood up and made my way to my bed. I sat on it, leaning up against the wall. When I looked into the boy's cell, he was in the shadows again.

Seeming tired, a Mogadorian in gray stopped in front of the boy's cell. He had his back to me, so I couldn't see what he was carrying. The boy's cell gate slid open a tiny bit, and I heard something clang on the floor. "Here, Number Nine. Go crazy, you piece of –!"

I noticed what the Mog had called him. _Nine? _The poor kid, he was going to have to stay there until the Mogs got all seven others that were missing. Unless Nine and I escaped. But, with our Legacies gone, I didn't see a clear way to. Maybe I'd _have _to open my Chest for them, so that I could grab something and kill them. But, I'd also have to get Nine out, meaning I'd have to find my way around the place. What if there were other people or Garde locked up? I'd have to go look for them too, meaning I'd pretty much have to single-handedly fight off a Mog army, with no Legacies. I've opened my Chest before, and I didn't know what much did. I had a bunch of rocks that did nothing. Jerri had even said we could sell them for a fortune. There were other things in there we hadn't got to, but I knew some: I also had a Xitharis, which is, if I remembered correctly, was a small and pale yellow rock, and Jerri said it could transfer my Legacies to another person's.

The worst thing was that I had a locator in my Chest.

I knew it was a locator. When Jerri saw it, she freaked out. When it was turned on, it opened up into a holographic model of Earth that floated above my hands. I didn't see the problem, or what was the big deal. Nothing seemed strange, yet Jerri always had it open with her laptops and mechanics. She was a little over-the-top. One day, she was specifically crazy about it. She showed me the little red dot in somewhere around Malaysia. I figured it was bad for a minute, like maybe Mogadorians, but then I guessed it was Loric, most likely other Garde. But there was only one dot. Maybe they had to open _their _locator at the same time, or something. I didn't know. But I really didn't want the Mogs to get their hands on it. If they were out looking for Jerri, I hoped she had it – she'd probably not put it back in my Chest, and so if she knew the Mogs were after her, she'd hide it. Hopefully somewhere I could find it for when I escape here.


End file.
